


Set in Stone

by shinigami714



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 09:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13854657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami714/pseuds/shinigami714
Summary: It was true, that all dwarves came from Mahal. None could be brought to life without his blessing.  And it was true, in a way, that they were birthed from the stone of the mountains as the tales of old told.  What many did not know, was that all dwarves must first be given form, painstakingly sculpted by hand and tool.Kili can't help but wonder if his creation was little more than a mistake.





	Set in Stone

**Author's Note:**

> For The WinterFRE on Gathering Fiki! Prompt #84. FiKi - Dwarven customs or traditions (real or made up). I wanted to fill more prompts than I did, but at least I managed to slip this one in at the end! :)

It was just a fact for Kili.  That he was lesser than others.  For reasons completely out of his control.  He’d always known, from the moment he first learned to form words, to make sense of the ones other dwarves spoke.  They’d called him things.  Things that didn’t make sense at first, but he understood well enough now.  Things like ‘leftovers’, ‘abandoned’, ‘scraps’.  He’d even heard one dwarf in particular refer to him as ‘a piece of worthless garbage’. 

The words stung, once upon a time.  They still did on occasion.  And though it irked him, hearing such things had become just another part of his life.  He was from the Halls of Forgotten Faces after all. 

It was true, that all dwarves came from Mahal. None could be brought to life without his blessing.  And it was true, in a way, that they were birthed from the stone of the mountains as the tales of old told.  What many did not know, was that all dwarves must first be given form, painstakingly sculpted by hand and tool.  As such, it was the artists and crafters of their race whom truly gave shape to a dwarven child.  They spent their lives perfecting their craft.  And the best became well known among all.  Their names were written in history, alongside the children they brought to life with their tools, forever remembered by the families who purchased their works of art.

Kíli had been quite young when he first discovered that his maker had no name.  Not like Fíli, who was crafted by Hulgaed Grayminer, in the finest marble as a gift to the royal family and to Dis and Vili upon their wedding night.  He had been a masterpiece, the greatest work of an age, and it was no wonder.  When Kíli looked into his brother’s eyes he saw gemstones blue as the sea, like the lapis lazuli that mother said had been set within the marble of his finely shaped face.  He saw a profile perfected as though sculpted from stone as it once had been.  Sure, Fíli had grown, no longer portraying the soft polished cheeks that a babe was born with, but the art was there, like an under painting, casting the grown dwarf into something greater than had they begun as but a rough edge of stone. The entire line of Durin before Kíli had been crafted by the great masters of their race.  There was Gadreas the Great, who brought Thorin to life with an ease unexplainable by the gods.  And Master Embrin, who supposedly discarded hundreds of sculptures until he perfected his finest work of art, and brought to shape Kíli’s grandfather Thrain.  And before them, many more.

Kíli though…Kíli was nothing.  He was no great masterpiece, no work of art.  He’d been little more than an abandoned scrap thrown away to rot.  Just another incomplete sculpture left in the Halls of Forgotten Faces.  Why his mother and father had thought to ask Mahal for his life, he could not begin to fathom.  Perhaps it had been an accident.  Perhaps they had meant for another and been subject to a cruel trick.  Or perhaps they had taken pity on him, begged Mahal to make something more of him than the unfinished stone he once was.

Kíli’s gaze lowered slightly as he became victim to the dark thoughts plaguing his mind.  No, it wasn’t the words of others that hurt him the most any longer.  It was his own guilt and self-hatred that did the most damage.  There were days he became so consumed by negative thoughts and emotions that he questioned everything, why he existed at all.  What was his purpose?  Was he needed?  Was he worthy of this life?  Was he just one big mistake? He wished he was more.  Meant for greatness, or at the very least, meant for anything at all. 

The clinking of sharp tools chipping away at stone quickly drew his attention back to the workshop nearby, and he watched another dwarf slaving away on a new sculpture with mixed emotions.  The child’s face had started taking shape, two eyes gazing up at the sky in false wonder.  It was beautiful already, but he wondered if the piece would be completed and prized as a work of art, or if it would suffer the same fate as Kíli, perhaps never given the chance to walk amongst their people at all.  Such a fate might be a blessing.

“Fascinating don’t you think, to watch an artist work,” Fíli whispered in his ear, settling into the empty space at his side and Kíli jolted in surprise at the sudden words.  Kíli looked towards him, doing his best to force a smile upon his face.  He’d nearly been caught. 

He couldn’t break.  Not in front of Fíli.

It had been getting more difficult to hide his thoughts in recent days.  For some reason he found himself slipping away, dissociating with the world around him whenever he was left to his own devices.  But he’d gone many years already without his brother discovering his deepest worries, and he didn’t want that to change now.  He spent several minutes just looking at Fíli, studying the face he’d become so familiar with.  Fíli looked honestly impressed with the work coming to life before their eyes.  Kíli wished he felt the same. His silence must have drawn Fíli’s attention, for he turned towards Kíli with an odd look in his eyes, his eyebrows lowering in suspicion. 

“I can’t imagine how those shapes come to be,” Kíli muttered quickly, turning away to look upon the artist once again.

“Me neither,” Fíli agreed. “To think we were once little more than blocks of stone.  That without the work of an artist none of us would exist at all.  Such talent.”

Kíli bit his lip, lowering his gaze slightly as he listened to the artist’s tools hammering against the stone.  He felt a sense of longing overtake him, and Kíli wished he had once been such a spectacle for so many onlookers.  He wished that his form had been loved so by a Master, that every inch of him had been brought about through such intense devotion.  It really was beautiful work.  Even Kíli could admit that.

“I could only hope to be so great,” Kíli muttered lowly. He hadn’t meant to say it at all; the words just came forth before he could think to stop them.  He grimaced at his own slip up, and swallowed nervously when Fíli didn’t immediately respond.  Perhaps he hadn’t heard, perhaps he was too enraptured by the artist’s work.  The silence terrified him, and Kíli held his breath as he awaited the words to come.  

“What do you mean?” Fíli asked, leaning into his arm slightly as he bent close to whisper in his ear.  Kíli squeezed his eyes shut and let out of heavy sigh.  Of course Fíli had heard.  He never missed a thing. 

Kíli didn’t answer right away, and Fíli didn’t rush him, though he could feel the heat against his side from their close proximity.  When Kíli finally moved away it was with nervous laughter and a fake smile.  He ran a hand through his hair shakily, his gaze flitting around and avoiding connecting with Fíli’s. 

“It’s nothing,” he lied.  It hurt him more than he thought it ever would.  He didn’t like lying to Fíli, he didn’t like hiding from him.  But he didn’t want him to worry either.  It took all of Kíli’s willpower to turn and walk away, when all he wanted was to fall into Fíli’s arms and let go.  He hated the way his mind screamed at him to turn back.  The way the growing distance between them only pained him further.  But he had to do this alone.  He couldn’t burden Fíli with such things. 

It was clearly one of those days, where he would inevitably fall into depression, his mind cursed to remember just how worthless he actually was.  Kíli knew from experience that there was nothing that could pull him free from those thoughts.  And Fíli would try.  He’d try and try and try, and only suffer hurt in the end when he failed to put Kíli back together. The most he could hope for was that the pain would ebb away in time.

“Kíli!” Fíli called out after him, and Kíli blinked rapidly as his eyes started to burn and his throat began to tighten uncomfortably.  Of course Fíli wouldn’t let him go so easily.

“I’m going to hunt,” he said over his shoulder, and he quickened his stride as the first tears escaped and clung to his eyelashes.

“Kíli wait!” Fíli shouted again as he ran up to Kíli’s side. “Let me join you,” he insisted, reaching out to stop Kíli’s long strides.  Fíli’s fingers dragged along his shoulder, but Kíli did not turn to face him, instead ducking his head in shame.

“Or do you wish to be alone?” Fíli asked.  Kíli tried to nod, but could only manage a few jarring shakes of his head, and a moment later gentle fingers were pressing beneath his chin and encouraging him to look up.  He opened his eyes and stared through the tears at Fíli’s blue irises, no longer able to keep up his act.  He felt the trails form as tears dripped down his skin, and his face crumpled when he witnessed Fíli’s stunned expression.

He had failed, even in this.

“I hesitate to leave you in this state,” Fíli muttered, his hands now rubbing a soothing pattern along the edge of Kíli’s jaw.

“I p-promise…it’s nothing,” Kíli stuttered, his nostrils flaring as he tried to hold in sobs.  Fíli clasped Kíli’s face between his hands, looking at him like he was the only other being in the world.

“Who do you think you’re fooling,” Fíli said in disbelief before he tugged Kíli against his chest and pressed his nose into tangled hair. “Talk to me,” he pleaded gently, and Kíli practically knocked him over as he collapsed into him, curling against Fíli’s sturdy form like it was the only thing keeping him upright.  They stood tangled about one another for a few moments, garnering the attention of several passers-by, but Fíli paid them no mind, his attention solely on his one.

“N-not here,” Kíli eventually managed to speak, and Fíli nodded and pressed a kiss to his temple, guiding him to the forest he had planned to visit.  They walked together, moving in a way that allowed them to stay in a half embrace.  Fíli’s arm was a comforting weight atop Kíli’s shoulder, his scruff a soothing balm where it dragged over the skin of Kíli’s cheek.  When they reached the stream running between the trees, the two parted long enough only to grab several skipping stones before returning to each other’s sides.  They took turns tossing them into the water, watching the stones fly across the surface before faltering and disappearing, leaving ripples in their wake.  Fíli was patient.  He didn’t push, just stared at Kíli with that caring gaze.  He stroked Kíli’s hair, kissed the tears away from his skin, and waited.

“I love you,” Fíli whispered against Kíli’s ear, and it was those words that finally broke him, sending Kíli into a fit of messy sobs.

 “Why do you…why do you bother with me?” Kíli cried as Fíli wrapped his arms around him and cradled him close. “There are others of much greater worth.  Dwarves in the village who…could provide you with so much more.”

“You think you are somehow lesser?” Fíli asked, his voice conveying his confusion as he rocked them from side to side.

“I know it,” Kíli insisted. 

Fíli frowned, his arms tightening around Kíli’s form before he turned him around swiftly and looked him in the eyes.  “What has put such thoughts into your mind Kíli?” Fíli pressed, and when Kíli tried to look away, he held his head firmly in place.  The tears streamed down Kíli’s face, pooling along the edge of Fíli’s thumbs.  His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pursed in frustration, but eventually Kíli closed his eyes and spoke. 

“I’m not like you Fíli.  I’m not a masterpiece.  I was not crafted by a great artist from the finest materials in the Blue Mountains.   I’m a mere scrap.  Another misshapen sculpture from the Halls of Forgotten Faces.  Unwanted even by whoever was my artist,” Kíli lamented.

“Kíli…,” Fíli began, but Kíli shook his head from Fíli’s grasp and pushed away.

“Everyone knows it! I’ll…never be as great as you, or…or any of them,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely towards the village.  Fíli looked on with wide eyes, clearly blindsided by Kíli’s sudden confession.  His blue gaze haunted Kíli, made him cower away and drop his own out of humiliation.

“Why did you not…,” Fíli began, though he quickly stopped, already answering his own question.  Kíli had always struggled with self-doubt.  He was constantly comparing himself to other dwarves, even those whom far surpassed him in years.  It was as though he competed against a shadow, unreachable to him regardless of his many accomplishments.  Fíli stepped forward, once again pulling Kíli close to his side.  He could not allow such things to fester any longer.

“Have you ever set foot within the Halls?” Fíli asked, and Kíli narrowed his eyes before frowning at him earnestly. 

“Of course not,” Kíli hissed. “We can’t, it’s not allowed.”

Fíli couldn’t help but snort at that.  Neither of them had ever cared much for rules, Kíli even more so than he.  And before his brother had the chance to react Fíli gripped Kíli about the arm and began pulling him towards the mountainside.

“Come, trust me,” Fíli spoke lowly, offering no room for argument.  They hurried towards the Halls, slipping easily into the shadows as the gates entered their sights.  After waiting for an opportune moment Fíli guided them beyond the few guards that stood at attention and into the dark interior beyond the heavy doors.  Their footsteps echoed upon the stone floors within, but no others walked amongst them so they had no need to worry of discovery.  The Halls were expansive, long and winding, and filled with sculptures lining the edges of the paths within.  Kíli’s eyes strayed to the side, where the barest amount of light glistened off of the surfaces of polished stone.  His mouth fell open in surprise the longer they walked, and he paused to study the intricate faces that stared up at him from all sides. 

“What do you see?” Fíli asked, leaning close to whisper the words in his ear. “Do you see garbage?  Do you see mere scraps?”

Kíli squeezed Fíli’s arm as he shook his head from side to side.  It was nothing like he had imagined.  He’d thought there would be broken pieces, sculptures vandalised and malformed, piled atop one another like they were meaningless additions to the world.  Instead there were hundreds of beautiful pieces, clearly finished, clearly created with the same loving care as any other work of art he’d ever seen.   And all of them presented as though just as great a work of art as any beside it.

“There are so many…,” Kíli murmured lowly.

“All of these faces are worthy.  All of these faces are beautiful children who have not had a chance,” Fíli voiced. “Because they are not new, or known, or from an artist with prestige.  They are not made from the metals and stone we have deemed as most valuable.  They are not inlaid with jewels and gems, nor do they bear an artist’s mark.”  He took Kíli’s hand in his own, running his thumb over the soft skin soothingly. “But they are no less beautiful, no less worthy of life. Why is it that we are not allowed to roam these Halls?” Fíli asked, and Kíli frowned before turning to look him in the eyes.

“Because we do not seek a child,” Kíli answered quickly. 

Fíli nodded at him, slow and sure, before raising his palm to settle against Kíli’s cheek. “Which must mean that someone sought you,” he commented.  Kíli opened his mouth to respond, but no words followed, and instead he paused a moment to think. “You were from these Halls Kíli, that is true.  When mother and father first saw you they knew that you were meant to be theirs.  They wanted you. They chose you, no other,” Fíli added.  At that Kíli’s eyes brightened, and he looked at their surroundings again, taking in the hundreds of children that had yet to be given life.  Out of so many, his parents had wanted _him_.

“They saw what so many others could not, blinded by their greed and status and the worth of a title,” Fíli added, pressing a kiss to the back of Kíli’s neck with such tenderness that it brought tears to the brunet’s eyes. “You are a masterpiece Kíli, and I am glad that when I look at you I do not see the work of another.  I do not credit you to someone else.  You are you, and you are beautiful,” Fíli insisted.  He wrapped his arms about Kíli, pressing his nose into dark locks of hair as he breathed in deeply.  He savoured the feeling of holding Kíli in his arms before grasping Kíli’s neck and stretching to press their lips together.  The kiss was slow and passionate, as so many of their moments shared in private were.  Kíli sank back into him, and as they parted he let out a breathy sigh before Fíli nipped at his lower lip and occupied him once again.  They kissed languidly for some time, until two more sets of footfalls sounded within the Halls and startled them to attention.  Fíli tugged Kíli into a nearby corridor out of sight, and the two hid within the shadows as a couple walked amongst the sculptures in search of a child of their own.

Kíli studied them openly, watching as they fell upon a face that spoke to them.  The couple glowed with happiness, hands grazing stone cheeks as though they could not believe they had finally found the child they searched for.  He felt slightly out of place, bearing witness to such a private moment, but still Kíli could not help but smile at the sight.

“Perhaps one day that will be us,” he whispered without thinking, a flush colouring his face when he finally realized the words had not gone unheard.  Fíli hummed against his temple and ran gentle hands up Kíli’s sides. 

“I would have it so,” Fíli agreed, his gaze ever lingering on Kíli’s smile.


End file.
